


Touch

by Zzzara



Series: Lost Boys [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Based On a Troye Sivan Song, Bottom Blaise Zabini, Bottom Harry Potter, Bottoming, Bottoming from the Top, Creature Fic, Creature Inheritance, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, M/M, POV Blaise Zabini, POV First Person, Sex Magic, Top Blaise Zabini, Top Harry Potter, Topping, Topping from the Bottom, Touch, Touch Troye Sivan, Troye Sivan Song inspired, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Veela, Veela Blaise Zabini, all Troye's songs are Drarry AF, emotional tension, veela fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 05:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zzzara/pseuds/Zzzara
Summary: Standing in the eye of the stormMy eyes start to roamTo the curl of your lipsIn the centre of eclipseIn total darkness II reach out andTouchThe words are rising from my lips on their own accord, and I can almost see them in the dark air. I cannot stifle them, cannot hold them back even if I wished to, the whisper of an ancient knowledge rippling through - the thing that is bigger than me, the Creature I don't have control over. All I can do is let it out.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This work belongs to the series "Lost Boys" and takes place in the middle of the story 'Lost Boy' - the Part 1 of the series (and actually makes a little sense if you haven't read 'Lost Boy').
> 
> This is the Blaise & Harry-encounter from Blaise's point of view, what is going through his head and heart during that hot and delirious night with Harry.
> 
> The mood and the title are borrowed from Troye Sivan's song "Touch", which has also been an inspiration for writing this little fic. Though transmitting Troye's songs into Drarry-stories - is what I usually do, somehow I've always known that if I put 'Touch' into a story - it would be about Blaise. And Blaise in my head is always a Veela-Blaise - gorgeous, reserved, complicated and mysterious.  
> [I strongly recommend to listen to the song 'Touch' before reading this fic - it is electrifying and would give you a feeling of immersion]
> 
> English is not my native language and I don't have a beta, so forgive me all the mistakes.
> 
> [Disclaimer: all characters belong to J.K. Rowling; here I don't make any profit whatsoever; I write for my own entertainment.]

**Touch**

_Standing in the eye of the storm_

_My eyes start to roam_

_To the curl of your lips_

_In_ _the centre of eclipse_

_In total darkness I_

_I reach out and_

**_Touch_ **

_[Troye Sivan, ‘Touch’]_

Is it wine? I would think so but...

No.

I know it is him.

We stop in the doorway, and he turns to look at me... there is this spark, right there, flaring briefly in his heart, dying down in an instant, as though yielding under his will. Shaking his head, he steps into the room and I follow him as though on a leash.

He thinks it is I who is Pulling, they all do. No, it is not how it works; not quite.  

Air around us is thrumming, alive with his heartbeat. He stops by the bed and turns. It is dark in the room but it doesn’t matter, not to me. For against the darkness the flame that ignites in his chest shines even brighter, no matter how hard he tries to dim it down... until he gives in.

He doesn’t know all this, he has no idea I can see. I am not about to tell him. Not about to let him know that it is he who has the power over me, not the other way around. Those who don't know, always mistake the Veela Pull for the manifestation of our power. Except for our kind, no one knows things for what they really are. It is our biggest secret. Our blessing and curse. If they only knew...

A Veela follows the one they attached their heart to; a Veela can only Pull the one who already does have that spark in them. And he's had that spark from the beginning, even when he didn't recognise it for what it was. The spark that now burns bright and brighter. The spark that tells me everything I need to know.

Thudding of his heart is deafening in the silent room. The roar of his blood on fire is music in my ears. Motionless, he ceases to breath, probably grateful to the darkness that he thinks conceals him from me. I feel the flow of my magic seeping through my fingertipst. This is how I know - a mere second before he knows it himself - that he is already allowing me everything I needed for so long, needed to do to sate this hunger that he is the source and the reason of.

I reach out and touch. 

My fingers graze the back of his hand - barely so - I cannot allow myself more, I am not even able to. All I can do is wait until he takes that final step, or he doesn't. He has to come willingly. Whatever he may think, it is not in my power to force him.

Something shifts in the air, and I exhale in relief, for I already know what he is about to do, even before he does.

He launches forward, grabbing my face between his palms, leaning in, and I think I am prepared for what is coming. I am not. I expect a kiss and to have an upper hand. Stupid of me, this is Potter.

The first thing I feel when our lips collide is a sharp bite - his teeth sink into my lower lip. I relish the pain, kissing back through it, finally being allowed to. His wild nature is my undoing, the very thing that pulls me, that holds me on a leash. My fingers glide up his neck, making him shudder. I am gathering it, getting high on his final surrender to my touch. Gasping, he throws his head back as though in pain, pushing up into me with his whole body. I press my lips to the hollow of his throat, drinking in desire that is rising from his skin in golden sparks.

He may think that it is I who is pulling, but of the two of us I am the desperate one. He cries out. I know my touch stings. He falls, and I gather him in my arms.

"Blaise," he whispers, "of course..." He sounds delirious, I doubt he knows what he is saying.

"Yes." I lower him on the bed, vanishing our clothes.

I need his skin, all of it, without any barrier between us. I take his glasses off and look into his eyes.

W _ords_ are rising from my lips on their own accord, and I can almost see them in the dark air. I cannot stifle them, cannot hold them back even if I wished to. The whisper of an ancient knowledge rippling through - the thing that is bigger than me - the _Creature_ I don't have control over. All I can do is let it out.

I trail his chest with my lips, letting the _words_ sink into his skin, etching into his very heart that is hammering under my breath. His whole body arches as though in pain or pleasure, it looks both. I taste his skin, sliding my tongue along his stomach, down, down, around the navel, down to where his cock is standing hard. I inhale the scent of his desire - he is so aroused he might burst. And there somewhere, drowned under the overwhelming lust, I feel the faintest flutter of something different: anxious and on its guard.

Of course.

He's never done this before.

I swallow him down, he jerks. I bob my head, moving my tongue along the underside. He arches against my finger sliding inside. 

 _"I want..."_ he says.

His hands stroke my nape, pressing into my scalp as I circle the head of his cock with my lips. He wants, of course he does - the thought makes me smile. I am going to make it good for him, so good that he will come for more and stay.

 _"I want..."_  he says again, trembling and gasping and gorgeous, and the Creature in me sings with triumph.

"I'll give it to you." It makes me say, changing my voice into purr, and he shivers under my palms.

I'll give it to him as best as I can. I push, and he is letting me in, and I summon all my restraint not to wreck him. I am hurting him and he screams; I feel his pain as though it were my own, there's no help to that.

"Don't fight," I whisper into his neck. 

 _Don't fight, or it will kill you,_ the Creature almost makes me say.

Pressing my lips to his skin, I let my magic sip into his body - sweet melody, soothing his wounded being. Going pliant, his body ceases to resist, and he is giving himself without reserve, melting into my touch. He slides his palms over my skin, pulling me deeper and the Creature is singing, baring its sharp teeth. I move, and he hisses. I don't stop, hurting him again and again, for there is no way around this pain, no way but through. I pin his hands above his head, lacing our fingers together, and we move - not in a fight but in a dance. I am etching myself into his being forever.

He doesn't know the moment when his agony becomes bliss, but I know it, for the air changes. It is singing, blissful and golden, dissolving his cries of joy, and it is my highest reward to give him _this_. In this very moment he is _mine and mine alone,_ completely and utterly mine to sate my hunger, drinking him in, until I am full to the brim. Until I become the Creature and the Creature becomes me, until there is no difference or divide between us, for we are one; until I am whole, until I dissolve, ceasing to exist.

His pleasure bursts between us, and I am dying, for this is too much to bear, and I am taking it all.

**

I watch him asleep, exhausted from my touch. He curls into me, and the Creature is purring. As soft and languid as a cat, and as predatory. Its nature is playful, jealous and greedy. It is tender and vulnerable, and its possessiveness can suffocate. It is a vital part of my being, but not my essence; sometimes I wish it were. I wish there were enough of a Veela in me for us to become one.

They think we are one, but we are not; not quite. They think I am _it_ , and they are not wrong. Though what they don't know, is that I fight it as much as I cherish it. I never win, and by the end I cease to even try. In the moments like this, I don't even want to know whom he has fallen for, dragging me down with him. Because I am afraid he doesn't see _Me_ in me, and rightly so. He's drawn to the Creature, which is too vital in me not to try and bond him, which is not a Veela enough and too weak to accomplish it.

I trail my fingertips along his arm and shoulder. He is so delicious, I can't breath. Those months since the beginning of the term, since the very first day I caught his gaze on me, have passed in his constant pull and my resistance, until I gave in. He has no idea how desperate I am; he mistakes my weakness for my power; they all do. It is not love, not yet. I tiptoe the fine line between the Creature's desire to possess and my own emotions that only need a little push for me to finally fall. I am afraid to fall. I don't know what it means to him. And there is nothing more pathetic than a creature like me on a leash.

In the moments like this I regret that I am not able to force him, unable to _make_ him. I would gladly do it, if I could.

He stirs in his sleep and turns on his back, so I finally see his face. I am able to fathom the faintest rippling of the visions beneath his eyelids. There's heat and desire and shining movement of my hands, reaching for him. Ah, that is how he perceives me in his dreams. I smile, leaning down to place a kiss on his lips.

Fire is rising in him again, before he is even awake, the need for me; and I am going to fuel it and give it to him, sate it as best as I can. My hand reaches down to where his cock is ready and hard. He presses into my touch, opening his eyes with a moan. They are wide and bewildered. Sitting up in the bed, he bolts out, welcoming me as I straddle his hips. Claiming his lips, I sink all the way down, relishing the pain; he cries out. I begin moving, striving to overcome the pain, eager for it to never end. Throwing his head back, he gasps, and I can hardly bear it, for he cannot feel my pain, but I am feeling everything he is feeling. This is already too much, but there is still all the way to go. He squeezes my arse, guiding me up and down, I feel how close he is. My head falls back, and I feel the press of his lips on my neck, the heat of his tongue stinging my skin, the sharp touch of his teeth; I shudder. He takes my cock in his hand and I hiss, biting my lip. I look down at him, and I am so ready. Leaning in, I press our foreheads together, reaching for him with my mind. He meets me in the middle only to pull me close and drag me down and hold me tight, until there is nothing left of us among our bliss.

**

I wake up to the empty bed, his scent still lingering. He must have got up mere minutes before.

"Come here," he said, pulling me to lay my head on his stomach.

I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of his skin beneath my cheek.

"You are so..." He trailed his fingertips through my hair, as though stroking a sleepy animal. "You remind me of..." He didn't finish.

"Of what?" I was dying to know and afraid to appear too eager.

"Of an animal... I mean like... a cat or some such. Dangerous and gentle, both at once."

He sounded dreamy and a bit delirious, as though already half-asleep. I raised my head to look at him.

"I don't know which one draws me to you or scares me the most," he said with his eyes closed.

He smiled, and my heart ached. Because I was not mistaken, it is the Creature he wanted, and never Me. Albeit he thought the creature was me, and maybe - just maybe - it could work out? Putting my head back on his stomach, I said nothing, and he didn't elaborate either, and I was asleep before I knew it.

The door opens, letting him inside. He has nothing on but a towel around his hips. Closing the door, he stands still with his back to me. The air is changing. He's brought _something_ with him, something that makes me uneasy. 

"Hey," I say. I want to see his face.

He turns around. "Hey."

Behind the glasses his eyes are haunted, as though it pains him to look at me. I must protect him.

"Come here," I say.

As though unable to resist the pull, he comes and stops by the bed, reluctant to make a move. I reach out with my hand, making him sit.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

I already know.

"Look, Blaise..." he begins, not meeting my eyes.

"You are freaking out," I say, "it's okay... come here."

I pull him down beside me, gathering him in my arms. He _is_ freaking out. What we’d done last night may have come as a shock to him in the sober light of morning. But it's not only that, it is something else.

"It's okay," I whisper, pressing my lips to his nape again and again.

His smell soaked my whole being through, how am I supposed to let it go? It is the Creature, I want to think. And it is, but not only. _Not only._ He turns in my arms, and... There is _Draco, Draco, Draco_ written all over his face.  _D_ _raco_ is screaming at me from his guilty eyes.

"Blaise, I'm sorry."

I knew it all along, it hurts anyway. I wince, not letting go of him.

"I see..." - is all I can manage right now.

I look at him and suddenly feel worn out, drained. I gave him so much of myself last night, poured out so much of my vital energy. He is taking it all and leaving, and there is nothing I can do. I wish I could force him to stay, force to give it all back. No such luck. 

"I am really sorry,” he says, “I didn't think...but..."

Reaching out, he touches his finger to my neck, trailing it up and down; it is all I can do not to recoil.

"But it is not _Me_ you want," I say.

I am so tired, I think I might sleep through the rest of the day.

He nods. "I'm sorry."

I see he really is. I see it pains him to hurt me. But there is nothing he can do, and the last thing I want from him is his pity.

"I thought..." I say, "I might at least try. I thought if I made it good for you, maybe you'd... stay?"

Why am I even saying this? I know I shouldn't. But he is honest, which makes me want to let him know that it wasn't _nothing_ for me. I don't want him to think I only used him for my own pleasure.

"You did, Blaise... it was so good, you have no idea...but..." he trails off.

But not good enough. Not a _Veela_ enough to force him to stay, and not enough of _Me_ to make him want me for _Me_.

The Creature is whimpering, weak and pathetic. 

 _'You are a failure'_ \- I say to it - _'No good for anything real. I am sick of you.'_

And it wraps itself around my aching heart, trying to soothe it. Taking pity, I cradle it and let it weep, for we have no one but each other.

"I really like you Harry, and I thought there may be something more between us," I say. There is no point in saying this. I just want him to know.

"You are so beautiful, so exquisite, Blaise... don’t waste yourself on me..."

His eyes are so pure, he really means it. He is like this, which always astonished me: this ability to expose himself, to say what he thinks, to lay everything bare, like a weapon on a table. Whenever I tried it myself, it never did me good.

I lean forward and kiss him, allowing myself to indulge in his taste for the last time. There is _something_ in him still, it is stirring and reaching for me, and it is all I can do not reach out in return.

_No._

It is already yielding under his will.

_Enough._

"Alright," I say, "I won't. Thank you for... being honest."

Throwing the sheets aside, I sit up and gett out of bed. Not looking back at him, I leave the room.

I need to be alone. 

**

My face is wet, I don't wipe it, letting droplets run down freely. They are only water from under the spray, I am not crying.

I am washing his scent off my skin, better not to linger.

The creature is weak and small and pitiful: clinging to my heart it curls around it in its sleep. It needs time to heal.

I know this ache in me won't wear off soon.

We both need time.

 *********   **The end of the Part 3** (look for the link to the Part 4 down below) *********

_**I am on Tumblr:[big-draco-energy](https://big-draco-energy.tumblr.com/)** _

 

_**[[Troye Sivan, 'Touch']](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U05QfLENZA8) ** _

_Glow is low and it's dimming_

_And the silence is ringing_

_And I can almost feel your breath_

_I can almost feel the rest_

 

_Night is young and we're living_

_Hands move, moving steady_

_And the time is moving slower_

_I can feel we're getting closer,_

_Closer_

_Standing in the eye of the storm_

_My eyes start to roam_

_To the curl of your lips_

_In the centre of eclipse_

_In total darkness I_

_I reach out and_

**_Touch_ **

 

_My mind's gone on racing_

_On a horse that's escaping_

_And I'm ready to jump,_

_Yeah, I'm ready to swim_

_Life is chances that are taken_

_But nothing's ever broken_

_They're just pieces on the ground_

_New hands need to build them_

_My mind's gone on running_

_My hands cut loose_

_Yeah, but there's no need for answers_

_Just the things you gotta do_

_And I need you to trust_

_That I'm lost and we must_

_Get past all these rules_

_We must choose_

_To reach out and touch_

_Standing in the eye of the storm_

_My eyes start to roam_

_To the curl of your lips_

_In the centre of eclipse_

_In total darkness I, reach out and..._

_Standing in the eye of the storm_

_My eyes start to roam_

_To the curl of your lips_

_In the centre of eclipse_

_In total darkness I reach,_

_I reach out and_

**_Touch_ **

  _***_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work belongs to the series "Lost Boys" and takes place in the middle of the story 'Lost Boy' - the Part 1 of the series (and actually makes a little sense if you haven't read 'Lost Boy').  
> Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinions with me in the comments below if you want :)  
> Tell me how you came across this fic, I'm really interested to know!


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